“And now I have done what I had feared to do, and intruded on your privacy, madam. I am sorry, and I hope you will forgive me,” continued Em., half ashamed of having to say so much before receiving an answer, yet reassured by the lady’s sweet, silent smile. “You have done nothing that requires excuse, my child. You could have had no reason to suspect that I was present. I have never been here in the autumn before. I always came the first of May and went the last of September. Only this summer I went to Canada instead, and then came here on the first of October to spend the autumn. So you see you are blameless. Besides, Edengarden, with its house and grounds, is open to the neighbors at all seasons. Even when I am here only my private suite of rooms is reserved. They are at the top of the building; so you might have roamed all over the house if you had wished to do so without the fear of intrusion. And now let us talk of yourself, little one. Your name is Emolyn Palmer,” said the lady, taking the girl’s slender white hand in her own. “Yes, madam; but everybody calls me Em.,” shyly answered the girl. “Do not be afraid of me, my child! This is not the first time we have met.” Em. started and gazed at the speaker in surprise. “No, my child, not the first time we have met. I held you in my arms and blessed you when you were a babe of only a few weeks old,” continued the Lady of Edengarden. Em.’s startled gaze of surprise softened as she lowered her eyes and reflected that this might easily have been the case, as her mother had many customers among fine ladies, whose little girls used to notice her babies. “Do you know for whom you were named, Emolyn?” gently inquired the lady. “Oh, yes, madam. I was named for Miss Emolyn Wyndeworth, a saint, an angel; but she has been in heaven these many years.” “How do you know that?” “My mother has told me so all my life.” “Your mother cherishes her memory, then?” “Oh, yes, yes, and speaks of her as pious Catholics speak of their patron saints.” “Tell me of your mother, my child. I used to know her very long ago, when I lived in the world. Does she enjoy good health, and is she much more prosperous and much happier now at the Wilderness manor-house than she used to be in Laundry Lane?” “To think you should know anything about Laundry Lane, dear lady! Why, even to me it seems like a place in a past existence, that I had died in and risen out of,” murmured Em. “And yet it is scarcely six months since you left it, while it has been over sixteen years since I saw it. But about your mother, Emolyn.” “Oh, mother, too, is just as if she had died in Laundry Lane and risen to Paradise! She is just as healthy and hearty and happy as any human being can be. And she looks younger now than I ever saw her look. And so does father. Did you ever know father, madam?” cheerfully inquired Em., who was growing more and more at ease in the presence of the lady.